... to announce the winner of Bad Girls Don't Die by Katie Alender. Indigo - it's all you! Drop me an email (blogginboutbooks[AT]gmail[DOT][COM]), and I will get it out to you ASAP.

Thanks to Disney Publishing for the giveaway copy. Thanks to all who entered. If you didn't win this time, don't give up - I have lots more books to give away this summer. I really do have a whole pile, so stay tuned!

Remember Shirley Jackson's short story "The Lottery?" (I thought it was required reading, but when I mentioned it to my husband he just stared at me blankly - so, if you're unfamiliar with it, click here.) Anyway, if that little tale of macabre sent shivers down your spine, just wait. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins combines the subtle horror of Jackson's classic story with the challenge and excitement of a Survivor episode. What results is a completely absorbing story that will eat you up and spit you out only after taking you on a heart-pumping, nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat thrill ride. It gives "unputdownable" a whole new meaning.

The story takes place in Panem, a futuristic world built on the ruins of what was once known as North America. It consists of a glittering Capitol and 12 surrounding districts, each of which specializes in a certain industry - agriculture, fishing, factories, etc. Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen hails from District 12, an area once known as Appalachia. Like its ancient inhabitants, residents of the district labor in the coal mines. Like their earlier counterparts, the general population is poor, underfed and diseased from the black dust that never quite dissipates. Working in the mines can be perilous, a fact which Katniss knows all too well - the job put her father in an early grave. His death paralyzes her mother, forcing Katniss to keep the family alive. This means sneaking under the city's electrified fence to hunt, trading her spoils in the black market, and risking her life for a meager amount of grain.


The novel opens on Reaping Day, a grim holiday where 2 kids from each district are chosen to participate in The Hunger Games. Having traded entries into the Games for grain - multiple times - Katniss' chances of being chosen are dangerously high. As are those of her best friend, Gale. Her only solace is that all of her entries should leave her beloved younger sister virtually risk-free. Through a cruel twist of fate, Katniss becomes District 12's female "tribute." The "honor" means Katniss will compete in a Survivor-style game against 23 other tributes. Only it's a fight to the death. Winning means honor, but more importantly, it means the winner's family will have food, money and shelter. It also means 23 people will die. Just like last year. And the year before. And every year. The Games are a gruesome, televised bloodbath - a gory reminder of who's really in charge in Panem. Participation is mandatory. It's also suicide for a scrawny, undernourished girl from District 12.

Before she knows it, Katniss is fighting for her life in an arena fraught with danger, much of which is manufactured by Games officials for the entertainment of Panem viewers. Katniss can't afford to feel any affection for her fellow competitors, but there's the little girl who reminds her of her sister, the boy from her own district who once showed her an immense kindness, and all the others who are just as terrified as she is. But it's kill or be killed in the Games. Katniss has no choice. She must use every brain cell, every skill, everything she possesses to save herself and her family. Her journey will be fraught with danger, betrayal, loss and her own grim determination. In a battle that defies logic, Katniss must do the impossible - survive.

So much has already been written about this novel that I doubt I can add much. I'll leave it at this - you must get your hands on a copy of this book. It's gripping, it's consuming, it's one of the best books I've read this year. What are you still doing here? Beg, borrow or steal (well, maybe you shouldn't go that far) - do whatever it takes to get yourself a copy. You won't regret it. Or forget it.

Grade: A

(Book image from Suzanne Collins' official website.)

When I was in high school, I attended a writer's conference at which I heard true crime writer Ann Rule speak. I found her so fascinating that I immediately checked out several of her books. Although gritty and raw, the books fascinated me, especially from a psychological point of few. Her experience with Ted Bundy (chronicled in her first book The Stranger Beside Me), especially, made an impact with its underlying question - How well can we ever really know the people around us? As compelling as her books are, their gruesome details soon got to be too much for me. I abandoned Rule years ago and never re-visited the genre she made popular. That is, until Hachette Book Group sent me a copy of After Etan by journalist Lisa R. Cohen. Like Rule's books, Cohen's is interesting and well-written (although Rule's style is less clinical, more readable), but also filled with so much human nastiness that it reminded me why I quit true crime books in the first place.

The book discusses the case of Etan Patz (pronounced AYTAHN PATES), a 6-year-old who disappeared from New York's SoHo neighborhood on May 25, 1979. The first-grader had been begging his mother all year to let him walk the 2 blocks to his bus stop. She had finally relented. But Etan never made it to school. He vanished, plunging his family - and parents all over the country - into a terrifying nightmare that jolted them out of their innocence. Suddenly, families became all too aware of the acute danger posed by sexual predators who preyed on children, an increasing problem that until then hadn't received enough attention. Fear made parents more vigilant - for a time, anyway. As the months wore on, all the Missing posters, neighborhood canvassing, televised pleas and police interviews came to naught. Blonde-haired blue-eyed Etan didn't turn up. Neither did his corpse.

As the case slowly went cold, new atrocities hit the news, burying the story of Etan's disappearance under fresh horrors. His parents still dutifully recorded every phone call they recevied, traipsed down to the police station for interviews and polygraphs, and investigated every "look alike" the detectives found, but one thing soon became obvious: The case was at a stand still. Federal prosecutor Stuart GraBois knew he couldn't let the case stagnate, couldn't let the Patzes down - determined to figure out what happened to Etan, he spent years in a dogged pursuit of the truth. After investigating several possible suspects, including the parents themselves, he honed in on a drifter with a history of violence toward children. GraBois refused to give up, even when Jose Antonio Ramos denied knowing Etan Patz. Although he never got a full confession out of Ramos, and never learned exactly what happened to the missing boy, the prosecutor's tenacious investigation of other of Ramos' victims put the dangerous predator away for the better part of his life. Maybe GraBois didn't crack the Etan Patz case wide open, but he did the next best thing - made sure Ramos could never again hurt a child. Without solid evidence to prove Ramos killed Etan, the child's case remains one of New York's unsolved mysteries.

Now, you're probably saying, "I guess there's no point in reading the book - Susan's just told me the whole plot." Well, that's correct, although the truth is that although this book chronicles the Etan Patz case, it's almost more about what happened because of the case: Because of Etan's disappearance, parents everywhere got a wake-up call about sexual predators. Because of his parents' ability to turn their own grief into something worthwhile, systems and laws were created that better protect and serve children. Because of young boys who bravely told their stories, a monster is behind bars. What started with man's inhumanity to man (although we don't know exactly what happened to Etan, we can assume it was nothing good) grew into something powerful, something important. It may have been too late to save Etan, but those whom he inspired have worked tirelessly to bring justice for all abused children. And that's what this story is really about.

Curiously, the thing I find most interesting about true crime stories - the psychological history of the perpetrator - was almost absent from After Etan. I think we all want to know what turns an innocent child into a person capable of committing unspeakable acts against another person. The book really didn't go into Ramos' history, which made the story seem incomplete. Maybe the investigators were just never able to turn up much information, but I would have liked to know (or maybe I'm better off not knowing) what made this guy tick. Other than that, I have no real criticisms. After Etan is certainly raw, it's definitely graphic, but it's also powerful and compelling. It's really a tribute to the dedication of law enforcement professionals, the bravery of victims courageous enough to speak out, and the plight of grieving families who allow their lives to be doubly torn apart in pursuit of justice. The fact that this book was published at all speaks volumes about the ability of one child to slip under our skin and into our hearts, pushing us harder to protect the most vulnerable among us - our children.

Grade: B

P.S. Interestingly, After Etan contains a couple of literary references. It includes a quote by Anna Quindlen, who worked for the New York Times between the late 1970s and early '90s. It also talks about Beth Gutcheon, who interviewed Julie Patz (Etan's mother) as part of her research for Still Missing. When the book came out, Julie was startled to find that the story mirrored her own so closely. Although she was grateful to Gutcheon for keeping the issue of missing kids in the spotlight, the novel "felt invasive to Julie, who also worried that readers would confuse the novel's fictional details - the disintegrating marriage of the boy's bereft parents, for example - with the real-life story of her family" (68). Interesting.

(Book image from After Etan's website)